The Boy Who PMSed
by awkward.jellyfish
Summary: Sixth year at Hogwarts with a bit more sensitive Harry than the one you all know.


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters.

A Touchy Beginning

Harry Potter was known as the "Boy Who Lived" but what did the others really know about him? The public only saw him as a young hero with a pitiful past and now the Ministry of Magic was turning him into a silent mascot who agreed with everything that the government did. However, the truth was that Harry didn't agree with _any_thing they did and thought that instead of providing world-wide security, all they did were spread lies. Especially everything they said about him was false except one small detail. In fact, all the tragedies in his life—starting with the death of his parents, then the murder of Cedric Diggory, soon followed by the recent loss of Sirius that still burned his heart—_had_ made him a bit more emotional than other normal teenagers who led average lives. His closest friends were the yappy Hermione Granger who would never shut up, and the laid-back Ron Weasley whose hormones were at their maximum; not only was he shooting up in height, but his mind was on nothing but sex. Though he concealed this desire very well, Harry knew that if he got the chance, he would make love with anything that moved. To Harry, Hermione and Ron were like siblings he never had and he relied on them for a multiple of things. For instance, Hermione was like a walking library and she was very useful when it came to doing academic assignments. Ron was more of the understanding type, someone Harry could easily consult with, and was often very humorous. However, they proved to be extremely annoying at times, especially when they called him names like, "The Boy Who PMSed" or "Dumbledore's Boy Toy." Sometimes, he felt that these insults were highly insensitive and made him run to the bathroom before anyone could see him crying. For one thing, he _did not_ PMS. Well, it was true that he was a bit touchy at times but that wasn't a once-in-a-month type of deal. And he didn't even think of Dumbledore in a sexual way; hairy just wasn't his thing. He preferred Aunt Petunia, although Professor McGonagall wasn't so bad either…

On that disturbing note, let us begin our wonderful story. Our hero Harry Potter woke at the sound of his own shrill scream with innumerous bead of sweat covering his forehead. His classmates, the normal ones with no magical, lightening-shaped scar, were still soundly sleeping. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting its bright red light to mark another typical morning of Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts. While everything was silent and slumbering, Harry jumped up from his bed and raced to Ron's side as quickly as he could manage.

Ron was oblivious to his best mate's movement and continued to snore. "Ron," Harry whispered. However, there was no answer. "Ron," he called louder and attempted to shake him awake.

Still no response. Harry figured that he must have had a rough time last night, probably with that Lavender girl. "RON!" Harry screamed, almost in tears. Was Ron purposely ignoring him? Didn't he know that this was hurting his feelings?

Finally, the redhead opened his eyes. His face was swollen but he smiled and stretched.

"You're up early today, Princess," he greeted. Harry didn't like the fact that he was being called a female but for some reason, he liked the ring of it. _Princess Harry_.

Harry shook off that thought to focus on something much more important. "Ron, I just saw your dad," he said with a very serious face. "He might be dead."

Ron's face was still relaxed and unconcerned. "Harry, my dad's back at home."

"Well, I saw him."

"Where?"

"In my dream."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "_Right_."

"Y-you don't b-believe m-me?" Harry stammered, obviously injured from his friend's lack of trust. "After all we've been through, I thought… I thought we had a special bond between us—"

"Okay, okay, so you saw my dad die. How did he die?"

Swallowing back his tears, Harry answered, "He was attacked by a snake."

"A snake?" Ron said with sudden interest. "Was it a sexy snake?"

"Ron, this snake might have killed your dad!" Harry cried.

Shaking his head, the redhead grabbed Harry's shoulders with a severe expression.

"Harry," he said in a very low voice that sent shivers down Harry's back, "Was. The. Snake. Sexy."

"Ronald, you're hurting me! How could you touch me like this?!" Harry exclaimed, recoiling from Ron's rough grip. With a sigh, Ron released him.

"I'm sorry, Harry. It's just that I got excited… I mean I never… with a snake…"

Harry gave him a look of disgust. "I'm very disappointed in you. I thought our friendship was worth more than having sex with a snake!"

"Not really," mumbled Ron.

Suddenly, a head poked out from behind Ron's bed frame. "What about a sexy snake?"

It was Neville Longbottom, a pudgy, unconfident classmate whose every action boosted Harry's self-esteem. He was probably the nicest boy in the whole grade and the only one who actually understood Harry's unbalanced emotions.

"Go back to sleep, Neville. It's just a snake that Harry saw kill my dad in his dream," muttered Ron, positioning himself to return to sleep. Harry watched as Neville's eyes went wide in horror.

"Oh, my gosh! I'll go get Professor McGonagall!" Neville yelled. Harry's heart thumped at the name.

Trying to act subtle, Harry reached out to stop the chubby boy. "Wait, I'll go get her."

Neville looked confused. Ron snorted.

"Harry has a thing for older women," he explained, laughing loudly. At this, Harry's lip began to quiver but Ron failed to notice.

Looking apologetic for no reason, Neville said, "Sorry, Harry, I didn't know. Sure, you can go get her. Take as long as you want."

But before he finished talking, Harry was already stomping away, wiping hot tears of hurt off his face.

**How's the first chapter? I enjoy reviews if you get the hint :)**


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